Of Silence and Snakes
by Owleye321
Summary: As a child, Harry Potter was told never to speak. He has spent the last 3 years permanently locked in his cupboard, and as such, he cannot speak or understand any English. So how will the wizarding world react when they discover their boy saviour is not actually a mute, but that he can only speak parseltongue?
1. Chapter 1

A trickle of water from the torrential downpour followed the snake as it slithered through the small opening in the cabin window before it was shut. Stopping in front of the thin, black haired boy who seemed to be the only inhabitant, it opened its jaws and spat out a small mouse onto the floor. The boy hissed his thanks, and the serpent made its way over to the corner where it slept.

It was the fifth day, and he did not know how long he could last. The storm had arrived two nights prior, and its howling winds and thunderous claps were so unlike the complete silence that Harry was used to. From the reinforced cupboard he had spent the last 3 years in, he couldn't hear anything from the outside unless his aunt opened the hatch to give him food. The quiet and the darkness were his friends, ever so comforting. _At least that's one advantage to the storm,_ Harry though glumly. It had been continuously dark outside since it started.

The sunlight on the first morning had been unbearable, and he hadn't stopped screaming until the snakes had come in to comfort him. The next morning he could take in his surroundings without his eyes hurting too much, provided he kept the blinds on the windows closed and didn't stare straight at them. He hadn't had enough light to see for this long in years. There were lots of books on the shelf, Harry remembered them from back when his relatives had let him go to school, but it had been so long that he couldn't understand them anymore. There was also a small television, but it made an ungodly noise that made him want to start screaming again. One thing he didn't have to worry about boredom though, he was used to spending long periods of time in places like this, after all, that's where he was the last 3 years.

The Dursleys ( _was that their names? Harry_ _had difficulty remembering_ ) had once made him clean their house, cook their food, and go to school with their son. The only part of his days he really enjoyed back then was when he was forced to do the gardening, he'd whisper to the snakes in the bushes when he thought his Aunt wasn't around, as she'd beat him for speaking at all. Once his stupid cousin ( _was it Dudley? some stupid name like that_ ) had seen him talking to them though, the fat blonde boy had started mocking and tormenting Harry with his friend. They'd even tried to throw the snakes at him, though the snakes never tried to harm him. When Harry finally broke down and started yelling at them to stop, telling them that they were hurting the poor things, the two were immediately bitten and collapsed.

Their screams had been the last then he had heard before he was beaten to within an inch of his life and dumped in his cupboard, never to be let out again. Until his uncle had dumped him on this bloody island.

Harry stared down at the mouse in front of him, his stomach both growling in hunger and disgust. Athena had been bring him food since the storm had made it difficult to search for berries like he had been doing before, but he still hadn't gotten used to eating meat, and he found that vomiting it was even worse than the hunger.

" _You can eat this instead, I don't think I can."_

Athena brought her head up to stare at him for a few moments, then curled up again without saying a word. _Clearly she's not going to let me get away with not eating again,_ Harry thought darkly, before taking a small bit out of its side and spitting out the fur.

BOOM!

Harry flinched at the abrupt disturbance, dropping the mouse on the ground before wildly running over to the corner. He couldn't tell if it was the storm or that infernal wooden machine that had went off every hour before he had smashed it and started burning its parts as firewood.

BOOM!

The bloody thing hadn't gone off since the first night, why was it doing it now! It sounded slightly different though, but maybe that was to be expected considering he had mostly destroyed it.

BOOM!

It took all of Harry's strength not to start screaming for it to stop. He hated hearing himself scream, it was as bad as every other loud noise, worse even, but he couldn't stop himself in situations like this. It disturbance seemed to be coming from the door though and not the device, so perhaps he wouldn't have to listen to it go off nine more times.

The last break in the commotion went on for longer than the others had before there was the much quieter creaking of the door opening. Harry brought his head down and knelt to avoid looking at the intruder, hoping that perhaps he would be missed, or at the very least not be beaten. He slowed his breathing until his chest hurt, and began to count quietly his head, the familiarity of the slow, methodical action calming him slightly.

"Harry?"

Harry brought his head up slightly at his name, and saw a giant, bearded man framed against the moonlight, with a small package in his hand. He heard his name being called again, and smiled a little. He was glad he still recognized his name, it had been so difficult before to understand words before and he had wondered whether he would be able to at all. Maybe he'd actually be able to understand everything this time, and maybe the Dursleys had just been speaking gibberish to him that whole time.

Unfortunately none of this was true, and he couldn't understand another word the man spoke after that. Harry sat down dejectedly in his corner and closed his eyes as the man went on unintelligibly, though this seemed to irritate the man quite a bit. Harry found that the giant would calm down considerably and stop repeating his name when he stared at the man, but he still seemed more annoyed than when he had first entered. The intruder finally stopped making that idiotic noise and the two just stared at each other in silence. After a few seconds, the man let out a growl and stomped toward him, reaching out with his massive, muscular hands to grab him.

Harry's screams and hisses broke the tense atmosphere, and the man let go and stumbled back. Athena began hissing from her corner as well, something about defending him, but Harry could barely comprehend what was happening over his own shrieks. God, he hated that noise he made. He flinched back and screamed louder as red lights began flashing before his eyes, he tried shutting them but they were just too bright and he couldn't concentrate on keeping them closed with all the shouting and hissing and movement and...

* * *

It was morning when he woke up, and he was still in the cabin, which had flooded significantly since last night. The door was hanging wide open and the window was shattered, allowing light to pour in and hurt his eyes. Thankfully he was alone again. Athena didn't seem to be anywhere around him, but that didn't bother Harry too much, as the floor was covered in debris, and she could easily be outside where it was too bright for him to go now that the storm was over. Harry tried to close the blinds further, to keep out the infuriating light, but they were too damaged to help. The door also would close properly anymore, but it could still block most of the light. Cursing softly, Harry went over to the bookshelf, shoved the remaining books into the shallow water, and curled up into a ball a few feet above the wet floor.

Harry never cried, when we was upset or angry he would count as high as he could in his head. It didn't do much this time though. Harry wished that annoying giant man could have left some food before he fled, since he had never been this hungry before and didn't know how much longer he could last without something to eat. He didn't think he could get up if he tried.

Maybe he could die in peace though. In silence.

* * *

The room that Harry woke up in reminded him of Dudley's room, back when Harry had actually been able to see it during his forced cleanings. The room was dark and the blinds were drawn, but the walls were a bright crimson red and gold from floor to ceiling, and the decorations were covered in strange, bearded creatures that his fat cousin had enjoyed playing with for a while. There were six beds here though, and nobody was yelling at him, which confirmed that this was not actually his cousin's room. As if his cousin ever had that many people over.

Harry's body snapped up as an unfamiliar scent hit him, and his head twitched back and forth frantically as he searched for whatever was making his mouth water so badly. There was a plate of food beside him, some of them were recognizable, like the eggs he was once forced to cook, but others looked like meat with blue bits sticking out of them. Harry wondered if these were similar to the green stuff on the bread his aunt used to give him, but their texture didn't seem right. There was a piece of paper beside it, or at least something that looked like it came out of a book, but he couldn't understand the scribbles so he threw it to the side. Harry quickly wolfed down the food before someone could interrupt, then opened some of the vials next to it, but they had a vile odor so he shoved them back across the table. The smell reminded him of the stuff Dudley used to try to force him to drink, which usually made him sick. It was probably poison.

Fumbling with the curtains to make sure they were secured and blocking the most light, Harry began to count in his head. He continued, kneeling in the corner, until the brightness emanating from the window began to dim. Thoughts about where he was, who had taken him, and what was going to happen occasionally filtered into his mind, but Harry was good at not losing count. He only stopped when the light had completely faded and his stomach began growling pitifully, and instead started building a small green fire on the pale skin of his palm.

Harry loathed the fire growing in front of him, it was too bright and he found it difficult to not start flinching and lose control with the constant cracks and sparks. When he'd first been locked in the cupboard, the fires he made had tended to be red, yellow, or blue, but those had hurt his eyes terribly. So he used green flames instead, but only when he needed to find the cups of water left for him so they wouldn't get spilled.

Or when he was in dark, unfamiliar places. Not that he'd been in one before, he had known his small cupboard intimately, and there had always been enough moonlight in the cabin to move around with. Harry slowly slunk across the room, never making a noise, and opened the door on the far side to reveal a staircase that would have been pitch black if not for the small flame. Harry kept his eyes glued to the narrow, winding steps as he slowly made his way downwards, trying to keep his weak legs from tripping. Eventually there was enough light seeping in from below that he extinguished the flame, only pausing slightly let his eyes adjust before entering the large room ahead.

It was too bright though. The light was subdued, perhaps more so than the cabin was at times, but it was til too much. Harry shut his eyes and tried to keep from screaming, but his foot missed most of the next step as he kept walking and a sharp pain tore through his shoulder as collapsed on the floor. He hissed at the pain, but managed to avoid letting out those horrible screams with only a short yelp.

Light had a tendency to reach his eyes regardless of how tightly he shut them, so he was able tell he wasn't alone when the irritating red spots darkened. He opened his right eye slightly, the pain no longer overwhelming his ability to see what was around him. Towering over him was an old, wrinkled man with a long gray beard and equally long gray hair, his purple robes and obnoxiously light blue hat contrasting violently with them. Beside the man was a younger, but still old and very stern looking woman with a much more subdued choice of entirely black clothing. Both had funny looks in their eyes, halfway between expectant and some emotion he hadn't seen before.

 _Did they say something to me? I couldn't hear them, maybe I'll be able to understand these people if they start talking._

Harry's thoughts turned more hopeful as the old man whispered his name and he understood it. Harry sat up slowly, attempting to keep the stern woman's head between him and the light, and turned to gaze into the man's old blue eyes, waiting for him to speak again.

Harry shouldn't have bothered. The long-winded, monologue the man spewed was entirely incomprehensible, complete nonsense that quickly gave him a headache. Harry slumped back onto the floor, rolling into a ball in the hopes that the pounding of his skull would dissipated. This only seemed to irritate the woman though, who started ranting at a much louder volume than the old man had and repeatedly yelled his name. Harry ignored her completely though. Its not like he could understand what they wanted, even if he tried. He was too broken for that.

There was blessed silence for a moment as nobody spoke, but it was shattered as Harry felt a hand brush against his arm. He tried to stop himself as he began hissing and screaming, but the lights above suddenly hit his eyes as the two figures moved away, and he completely lost control. _Stop, stop, I hate that disgusting noise so much, make it stop._ But nothing Harry thought could make it stop, and the pounding in his head grew heavier and heavier as the red lights began to fade and his screams grew more and more distant.

* * *

Thank you so much everyone who read this! I'm not sure how good it is, so I would love some reviews, even if they're negative, since I haven't gotten much critique on my writings in a few years. Do try to be nice and constructive though. I'll try to put out the next chapter in a week or two, I feel like it'll come out pretty easily.

I don't own anything,

IoftheOwl


	2. Chapter 2

The adults quickly learned that touching Harry Potter was a very bad idea. Not that Harry himself had particularly wanted to teach them that lesson. He was certain that the screams he had let out the following morning when another older woman, this one wearing a white apron, had tried to apply balm to his shoulder were much worse for him than they were for her. Despite the pleas he gave for her to stop, ( _or perhaps because of them, that would be something the Dursleys would do_ ), she had held him down and continued the slow torture. It did not help his self control that the flimsy, painfully white curtains surrounding him completely failed in their job to block the sunlight piercing through the tall, open windows. Harry wasn't sure how long he been curled up screaming during it, but he hoped it had been a long time, just to spite her. He had blacked out after ten seconds.

When Harry woke up again in the same, now darkened room, he did not expect to feel any better than he had before. The prior times he had woken up after a screaming blackout, he had been greeted with a new set of bruises covering his back and a throat that felt like he had been breathing fire instead of just screaming. This time however, he felt nothing.

After pulling back the curtains around his bed and not being immediately set upon again, Harry was able to relax slightly and take in his surroundings. From what he could make out, the room was completely empty, and the once bright, open windows were now thankfully blocked by thick, black curtains. It seemed to be night outside, as there was no annoying glow around the edges like there was during the day. The sparse room, which reminded him vaguely of the hospitals he was sometimes sent to by his uncle, was illuminated by four faint lights, one in each corner of the ceiling, which Harry studiously avoided looking at as they would certainly sting his eyes.

A mouth watering scent, similar to the one before yet so different, came from the table beside his bed, where something Harry vaguely recognized as toast and eggs were located. They didn't even have any nasty green stuff on them, and after quickly wolfing down the food, Harry felt amazing. He'd never been able to eat two days in a row before.

The rest of the table was completely covered in vials, many more than there had been at his bedside last time. A quick sniff of a pale blue one quickly confirmed that these were once again poison. _Why do they keep trying to do this to me,_ Harry thought angrily, _if they want to hurt me why don't they just get it over and beat me. Or perhaps hold me down and rub my shoulder_ _again_ _._

Harry did not like it when people pretended to be his friend. This whole situation reminded him of school all those years ago, when his fat cousin and friends would act like they were helping him get up, then knock him back down and kick him repeatedly. Harry had learned not to even try to get up when they were around, they'd would eventually grow bored and leave if he just curled up in a ball and didn't move. These people seemed to be doing something similar, Harry decided. Only with tasty food and poison instead.

So ignoring the vomit inducing liquids in front of him, Harry made his way over to the thick wooden doors on the far side of the room, making sure to move silently and staying up against the wall lest someone come in and see him. When he got to the door he found it stuck, and no amount of pushing against it would make it budge, even after multiple attempts. Harry did decide he liked the firm, cold texture of its surface though, and spent the next few minutes rubbing his cheek against it before heading over to the smaller door on the opposite side of the room. It was similarly locked. The windows behind the curtains were also locked, and shatterproof, as Harry discovered when his smashed the food tray against it. Hissing in frustration and pain at the loud noise he had made, Harry re-secured the curtain so it would again block the sunlight in the morning and crouched in the corner farthest from both doors, where he began counting.

The higher the number reached when counting, the better, at least in Harry's opinion. He enjoyed how the larger numbers rolled off the tongue, the subtle changes in hissing forming together to make its new value more interesting. He hadn't gotten anywhere near that level though before he was interrupted by the large wooden doors across from him slowly creaking open.

The elderly man with the obnoxiously colored clothes entered first, this time with a thankfully more subdued choice of deep red robes and no stupid looking hat. A dim light shone eerily from the tip of a long wooden stick the man was holding, illuminating the room with its peaceful glow. After a few moments of staring, Harry realized that his eyes weren't stinging from it, and let out a quiet laugh at the beauty of its glow.

He hadn't been quiet enough though. The ancient eyes of the wrinkled man glittered softly as he gazed at the corner where Harry was curled up, and though the man said nothing, Harry knew that he'd been caught. He could see two other people who had been shadows beyond the doorway enter the room, one was the stern woman from earlier and the other nasty looking pale man dressed in plain black and with a familiar look of anger and contempt in his eyes.

Harry waited silently as he stared unflinchingly at the man in front, who was obviously the leader, and all three silently gazed back at him. As minutes began to pass without any movement, the pale, hawk-nosed man to the right began to twitch in irritation and eventually began speaking angrily to the leader in a low hiss that Harry could almost recognize, though not understand at all. The woman snapped back at him, but the old man did not react at all, and Harry tried desperately to mirror the calm features in front of him, determined not to show weakness. A peaceful quiet settled again, and nobody spoke again for a few minutes, before the elderly man knelled down in front of Harry, his glowing stick held carefully off to the side, and spoke a few soft, incomprehensible words to him. Harry did understand the wave he gave though, a summoning he distantly remembered his old schoolteachers giving him before his punishments. _If I follow them they might not beat me too badly,_ Harry thought with some irritation. He hated being lead to a beating, but he'd follow their instructions until he found a moment to escape. He was certainly not going to let himself get locked up again without a fight.

* * *

In front of him was perhaps the stupidest looking hat that Harry had ever seen. The old man seemed to want him to put it on, even demonstrating how to do so and somehow looking even more ridiculous in the process, but Harry was having none of it. He was fairly certain the ragged thing was too large for him anyways, it would probably fall down past his eyes, which was something Harry definitely didn't want to have happen around these people, especially the pale man who was staring at him like Vernon used to do. He had had that look all the way to here, and Harry shuddered to think what he intended to do.

They were now in a rather large, cluttered room filled with strange artifacts that Harry didn't dare touch. He was certain they would kill him, and this whole place looked like a death trap. Even if none of the objects themselves were lethal, Harry knew from his time around Dudley that hoarders, which this man definitely appeared to be, did not like their stuff being touched.

Harry took a deep breath and looked out the open window across the room, the nice, cold breeze drawing him. From their apparently high vantage point, a dark, mountainous landscape could be seen, a faint glow from beneath the horizon outlining the peaks. Harry smiled slightly at the stunning view, ignoring the elderly man demonstrating how to wear a hat again as he slowly calmed himself. As the fool behind the desk continued to proof himself as such, Harry found that the woman behind him had lost control of her expressionless features, and was now wearing something that Harry had seen in the mirror many times, desperation. She mumbled quietly to the pale, nasty man, who immediately rolled his eyes and went back to glaring at Harry mercilessly. After a moment, the man let out an iritated growl, and swiftly strode around the desk, snatching the hat off the old man's head as he moved.

 _He's so silent,_ Harry's thoughts betrayed as the man swept forward. Then, a sudden realization hit him as the imposing figure loomed over him, smiling faintly with a steely gleam to his eyes. _He's going to start beating me, I can't start screaming, I must not show weakness..._

The hat fell heavily on his head as the man dropped it, and Harry felt himself losing control as he couldn't see anything and he waited for the blow.

"Well, aren't you a loud one. Normally children try to hide their thoughts from me. Never works, of course."

The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere in the darkness, but was so much like a thought at the same time. And he could actually understand it! The words had come in a soft, wise hiss, like that of the forest snakes behind the Dursley's house, except much older, perhaps like how an ancient snake ( _is that a thing?_ ) might sound. Except Harry hadn't seen any snakes when he looked around the room, and the voice had only appeared when the hat fell on his head...

"What are you? What do you want? Where am I? How can I understand you?" What's going-"

"Ah, I see you can understand me, that's good. I am the sorting hat, usually I would be choosing houses for children who come to this school, but Dumbledore was worried that you couldn't understand him, which you clearly can't, so he asked me to try to talk to you."

"You can understand them! Why can't I understand them?"

"Well, if your memories are correct, you seem to be a parseltongue, which is a rare gift among wizards that allows them to speak to snakes. Unfortunately, due to your... family, it seems that you never developed the ability to understand what other people are saying. Since I am essentially a mirror for your mind, I am able to communicate with students regardless of their language, which is why I can understand them but you cannot."

"I'm a wizard?!"

There was a long pause, and Harry could have sworn that he could hear the hat sigh in his head. Harry was quite surprised that he was enjoying this so much, he'd never really liked listening in a conversation before, though the snakes around the Dursley's house had never exactly been very interesting. They were quite stupid, in fact, and Harry only talked to them so often because they always obeyed him. Harry was eager and excited for this though, on the edge of his sit as he waited excitedly for the hat to respond.

"Yes, you are a wizard, and this school is where you will be learning magic. The man behind the desk that you so aptly characterized as a fool is the headmaster, named Albus Dumbledore, and he is currently your magical guardian. He will be looking after you while you are in attendance here."

"What's this school like then? Is this the actually school? Is it like the one I used to go to? Is Dudley-"

"One question at a time, young man. Now..."

Their conversation went on for what Harry felt like was an eternity. The sorting hat was very patient, and despite an exasperated sigh every so often, it answered all of his questions with a calming hiss. Harry felt completely at peace in the darkness under the hat, his joy unbridled at being able to understand something that was even remotely intelligent and that could actually hold a conversation. When Harry eventually began to struggle for more questions to ask, the hat cut his thoughts off, speaking softly but determinately.

"Enough, my child. You cannot spend any more time under my presence without considerable damage to your own mind."

"But how will I be able to understand anybody after this! You said they can't learn parseltongue, but-"

"They will likely try to teach you English before classes start, though I doubt they will get far. I will tell them to try muggle sign language instead, I see your old school tried to teach you some and it will likely work much better for you. As for your parseltongue, you must not let anyone know you can speak it."

"Why? But what if-"

"Now is not the time to explain in detail, simply know that it is incorrectly considered by many to be a dark skill, and you do not need that following you around while you are so young. I will not even tell the headmaster about it. Now, if you can agree to do that, there is something I need you to do after this."

Harry hadn't particularly liked the tone the hat had been taking during the last few exchanges, he did not like feeling like he was being spoken down to, especially now that he could understand exactly what was being said. He swallowed his pride and took a deep breathe, slowly calming himself. It would probably be a bad idea to anger the only thing that he could speak to, Harry thought irritatedly. The hat let out what sounded suspiciously like a deep chuckle at this, then continued quickly.

"On the first floor of the castle, there is an entrance to an underground cavern known as the Chamber of Secrets. I don't know the exact location, since it has a tendency to move, but there will be a carving of a snake at the entrance. In this chamber you will find a library where you can learn parselmagic. If you are unable to physically say the incantations before the start of the school year, than go here and learn what you can so you can keep up with your peers in class. If you say the incantations in a whisper, everyone will likely just assume you are using silent magic instead."

Cheered up slightly by this, Harry took a deep a breath and let it out slowly, calming himself. He had been worried that he wouldn't be able to pronounce the incantations for spells, since when his old teachers had tried to get him to speak, all that had come out were hisses. But if he could whisper quietly when he cast the spells, he could likely make it seem like he wasn't actually speaking, and nobody would find out his new secret.'

There was loud grunt in her mind, which sounded suspiciously like the hat was clearing its throat. Then it happened again. Harry didn't quite know what to think, he had heard that sound before, usually when Vernon had been angry and about to beat him, but he had never been able to figure out what the man had wanted in those-

"I can't remove myself, you know," the hat whispered, its patience clearly wearing thin, "We'll speak again at the sorting, I promise."

 _Oh, of course._ Harry laughed softly at the ridiculousness of it all. He had been having a conversation with a talking hat for who knows how long, and he had completely forgotten that it could both not move on its own or beat him like he thought it might have wanted to. It had spoken of the sorting before, and Harry was quite looking forward to it now. Swiftly moving his hand atop the sorting hat, he removed the ugly garment covering his eyes with a smile on his face.

It was all Harry could do to keep from screaming as the white light poured from the window and burned his eyes. The hat fell forgotten from his grasp as he pushed back against the chair with all his might, trying to escape the sun's horrifying glare, and toppled over onto his back heavily in panic. Harry sealed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the blood red that was stained across his vision. His breaths were becoming ragged and heavy, and an all encompassing weight began to settle down upon him, pushing Harry to do what he hated most, to start screaming.

And then it was gone. There was only blackness around him now, and the horrible weight that was oppressing him slowly eased away. His gasps for air settled into slow, deep pants as he calmed down from the sudden assault, and he risked a small peak out of the darkness to see what had happened. The window across the room was now completely black, with only a faint glow on its edges, and the old man, Dumbledore, he recalled the hat saying, was kneeling in front of him with his glowing stick out, his eyes filled with that unknown emotion. The bearded man let out a sigh and smiled when their eyes met, then put him stick away and reached deep into his pocket, eventually pulling out a small, wiry contraption. Glasses.

Harry was surprised he still remembered what those were, he had worn them when he was younger, but Dudley had broken them so often that they had become practically unusable. They had been completely useless once he had been locked away, and he had eventually lost them in the darkness. This pair looked nice though, clean, unbroken, and small. Deciding that it couldn't possibly hurt him, Harry reached out and took them from the old man, gently placing them on his face like he used to.

The room darkened even further as the glasses covered his eyes, but he didn't mind much, as the room came into crisp focus as well. Harry couldn't believe how clear everything was, it was like everything was closer to him, and he could make out impossibly fine details at a distance where everything was once a blur. He observed the ancient man get up and walk back to his desk, every wrinkle on his face visible and every billow of his ugly robes clear.

 _What is he doing?_ Harry saw the man, who was now alone with him, pull out his stick – no, wand – that's what the hat had called those, and point it at the blackened window. Harry knew what the man was planning to, he barely contained an irritated hiss as he felt the urgent need to stop the old fool from reversing what had been done to the thing, but there was nothing he could do. The sun's awful light streamed in, touching everything in the room, and Harry flinched back in shock. It didn't even hurt. Looking out the window at the darkened landscape with a renewed smile on his face, Harry could quietly observe the outside for the first time in a while. Though he could see the sun up high above the mountains, and even though stung his eyes to look directly at it, the scene in front of him looked as it had before the sun had come up.

Harry let his smile grow as he stood there, letting it all in. If this is what magic could do, then he would never let it go. He loved magic.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who has continued reading this! Since this is my first time writing something this long, I may go back and edit old chapters, but none of the plot will be changed, I promise

Someone asked me if this will be mostly exposition, and it seems it will be, at least for the first few chapters. I tried to write dialogue in here with the sorting hat, but I was finding it really difficult since it mostly was explaining things to Harry that everyone here knows from the books, so I decided to cut most of it out and shorten it. There will be more eventually though.

Please feel free to review, I really enjoy reading them! Constructive criticism is very useful to me. I'll try to have another chapter out in a week or two.

I don't own anything,

IoftheOwl


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